Sourpuss
by dyslexic-Carmie
Summary: Oneshot. Belarus makes America explain to her what's wrong with him.


"Looks like God has played matchmaker again!"

She frowned.

"What are you talking about?"

"Our bosses are having a meeting together."

She cut him off.

"That's normal."

"And it's around lunch time! So, that means my inner gentleman has to buy you lunch."

"Inner gentleman?"

"I was raised by England. He's like boss of the whole its polite to hold an umbrella over a pretty lady when its raining, and its polite to know what all those forks are for and stuff. So, naturally being raised by the boss of not-so-awesome and kinda girly stuff makes me have a inner gentleman."

He laughed.

"And that inner gentleman of mine is going to buy you lunch!"

"I rather you didn't."

"What? If this was high school you would be extremely excited!"

"Uh… America we never actually went to high school."

"Yeah, but I've watched several television programs about kids in high school. And me offering to buy you lunch is like the equivalent to me giving you my letterman in high school land."

"You really should stop watching these television programs."

"You should really start watching a few. It might make you less of a sourpuss."

"No."

"So, are you going to go to lunch with me? It would be rude if I just left you here without food in your belly."

She frowned.

"Dude, stop looking like such a sourpuss. I'm inviting you to come with me to lunch. I'm even offering to buy your food."

She sighed.

"Fine, but this isn't going to be a date."

"The leading lady always says that in the movies to build some suspense."

"You're a piece of work you know that, right?"

He squealed.

"Wow! You're so good at being in character! You're totally being suspenseful to this the situation!"

"Do you even know what suspense is?"

"If my life was a movie it would totally be rated fresh on the tomatoes website!"

She headed towards the door.

"Let's just get lunch over with, okay? I don't think I can last much longer of your blabbing."

He opened the door for her.

"Yay! You're actually going to go to lunch with me? This is awesome!"

They both walked out the door.

"Yeah, I figure you can't blab as much with food in your mouth."

He laughed.

"I have many talents."

She rolled her eyes.

"Oh dear."

* * *

"So, that's why in a ice age I would be able to survive with the help of Canada's syrup, and England's stupid tea."

"Is this what you think about when you zone out in meetings?"

He ignored her question.

"As for my accomplishments, I once drank an entire bottle of ketchup, found all the Waldo's in a _Where's Waldo_ book, and highlighted every word in the dictionary in multiple colors."

He laughed.

"Are you impressed yet?"

She set down her sandwich annoyed by his ego.

"Can you tell me one thing that's wrong about you?"

"There's nothing wrong about me."

"Everybody has at least one flaw."

"Not me. I'm like a perfect mix of agent 007 and Batman. Oh, and that mix is shaken not stirred. Ha, did you see what I did there?"

She frowned.

"So, you're telling me that there's nothing wrong with you?"

"Yep, my darling leading lady I'm perfect like a master painting work of art thingy by Beethoven."

"He's a musician not a painter."

"I meant to say Trotsky. I just pronounced it wrong."

"He's a Marxist."

"Shakespeare?"

"Also not a painter."

"Oh, then Lohan."

"Lohan?"

"Yeah, like Lindsay Lohan."

She shook her head.

"You clearly have something wrong with you, America."

He laughed.

"I guess I do have a little flaw."

"So what do you call your little flaw?"

"I wasn't aware that your were supposed to name your flaws. I guess I would name him Bobby. No wait! Pablo! That name is way more fun to say. Pablo! Pablo! Pablo!"

She frowned.

"No, I want you to explain to me what's wrong with you."

"There's nothing wrong with me."

"I think there is."

"I think there isn't."

"I'm pretty sure you're aware that something is wrong with you."

He laughed.

"Well, I guess there could be something wrong with me."

"Explain, please."

"Okay, well… uh… I've been sitting here with you for what seems like forever as our bosses have this stupid meeting, and you won't stop making that sourpuss face of yours. I've told you about my several fantastic accomplishments, why I best out everybody else in the world, and my dreams. And I still can't make your sourpuss face lose some sour. You just can't smile when I've around."

He gave a nervous laugh.

"I think that counts as something wrong about me."

She smiled.

"Seriously, that made you smile?"

She laughed.

"You never told me about your dreams."

"Really? I thought I did."

"You didn't."

"Oh."

"Mind telling me about your dreams?"

He blushed.

"I rather not."

"Is the big Mr. Nosy-America too embarrassed?"

She laughed.

"I thought one of Mr. Nosy-America's special talents was his ability to not get embarrassed. I guess Mr. Nosy-America's only talents are really just his ability to put too much food in his mouth, and not know names of famous painters."

"Hey, I don't get embarrassed!"

"Oh? So you wouldn't get embarrassed if you explained your dreams to me?"

"I'm more worried that you'll get embarrassed. And it's not good for the hero to be making the leading lady blush."

She stopped laughing and smiling.

"Enough with the hero and the leading lady crap."

"You'll come to accept it. It's too awesome to deny. Its awesome 'cause I came up with it!"

She rolled her eyes.

"Whatever. Just tell me what these embarrassing dreams of yours are. Or at least one of your crazy dreams."

"Sometimes I dream that I can teleport."

She rolled your eyes.

"I doubt that's the one that really embarrasses you. Tell me the one that embarrasses you."

"Dude, I never told you where I dream of teleporting to."

"I assume you'll just go any place a male dreams of teleporting to."

"Yeah, like Disneyworld and Sam's Club. I hate showing my membership card before entering that place. I just go there to eat all the food samples. It makes me more of a exotic person."

"That isn't your embarrassing dream."

"Nope."

"Tell me your embarrassing dream."

He sighed.

"Okay I will. But, I'm only doing this because the leading lady is asking the hero to. You better not laugh at me when I tell you it."

She almost smiled again.

"I promise I won't laugh."

"Okay, one of my dreams is to become better friends with you, your sister, and even your vodka drinking lunatic brother. I just want to be such good friends with all y'all that we can just hang out. Like we don't have to have a world meeting or anything to see each other. We could just hang out for the fun of enjoying each other's company. And play laser tag!"

He laughed.

"I always wanted to murder your brother in laser tag."

"Murder?"

"Its like a way more awesome way of saying destroy or something. I don't invent my slang. I just make it sound real good."

He sighed.

"You don't find that funny. I guess that dream is a little more farfetched than I thought. Especially, the part about me wanting to be the closest of friends with you."

She blinked.

"What?"

"Yeah, I want to be really good friends with you. Even though you make sourpuss faces a lot, never laugh at any of my jokes, and have this creepy thing for your brother I still find you pretty swell. You're really hot, and I just think it would be awesome if you could just be less of a sourpuss."

He sighed.

"Like if you were less of a sourpuss we could totally be friends. I don't know. I guess I think it would be cool if you and I could just hang out like friends. Instead of these stupid pity lunches we have when our bosses have meetings together."

"Oh?"

"I just want to be close friends with ya. Like have crap tons of inside of jokes that only we get, and that make everybody else jealous when we bring them up 'cause they don't get them. That would be extremely awesome. I'm the coolest dude country I know, and you're the hottest chick country. Well for now. Liechtenstein might be hot when her boobs come in."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Excuse me?"

"That was a joke. I guess it wasn't really funny. Ugh, why can't we just be buds?"

He sighed again.

"I don't know. I guess I just want you to laugh more, smile more, and not make such a sourpuss face when you're around me. I just want you to laugh at my jokes and think I'm cool."

The two were both silent for a moment. Then she laughed.

"I thought you promised not to laugh at my me."

She laughed again.

"I did! But I'm not laughing at you!"

He raised an eyebrow.

"Seriously?"

She smiled laughing.

"You said you wanted me to laugh more when I'm around you."

She laughed again.

"I'm making that dream of yours come true."

He laughed too.

"I guess this makes our first inside joke."

* * *

**A/N**

**This story follows the whole idea of, "Sometimes writers just put characters in situations to get a certain outcome". In this case the outcome is Belarus warming up to America. **

**I think America is a little out of character in this. He's a little too aware of the fact that Belarus is annoyed about him. But this fic has been sitting on my desktop for quite some time now that I decided to post it. **

**Anywho, there's a reference to another Belarus/America story I did once. I doubt anybody noticed it/cared enough. **

**Review and help me correct my grammar! Any mistake in the grammar department pointed out to me will be fixed as soon as possible. **


End file.
